Devonne Brown

Image generated with AI

When I go outside, summer smells like rain and cut grass. If I sit on my rocking chair on the back porch, I smell the deep green dirt and dead leaves of forest earth supporting my flowers. The deadfall of the yard, dotted with bright pink begonias and orange, fuchsia, and red impatiens emits the scent of the earth under the canopy of green. It is at least fifteen degrees cooler in the backyard than the front because of the shade dappling the ground.

Sometimes, when the wind is soft and coming up the hill, it carries the fragrance of honeysuckle, sweet and heavy. The breeze moves the aroma around the yard ghostlike, sometimes here, other times there, in pockets of air that drop from the atmosphere like spray perfumes. 

My grill contributes to summer scents. Savory meat and vegetable juices drip from the hot grill, evaporate, and mingle with the floral bouquet. I am reminded of family gatherings of long ago. Mom ran the kitchen like a bootcamp. Each child became a grunt in her army with a terrible job. Mine was usually peeling all the potatoes for potato salad, all of them. I didn’t get to use a vegetable peeler either. It had to be done with a paring knife, and cutting myself was not an option, even though I was still a kid. 

She’d hand me a five pound bag of potatoes, a bowl of water, a knife, and a chopping board. “Here, get busy,” she’d say. It seemed to take forever. No cartoons for me that Saturday. I wasn’t allowed to sit and peel either. I had to stand at the counter, peel the skin into the trash, cube the potato into the water, and start the process over and over again. I was always surprised there was daylight left when I reached the bottom of the bag.

She’d finish what I’d started by cooking and cooling down the potatoes just enough to add the mayo, mustard, and pickles. I love that warm sweet and sour smell of fresh potato salad. It almost made standing over the trash can with the knife worth it.

I rarely make potato salad these days, but when I do, I do not peel potatoes. I buy red skinned potatoes, so they can be scrubbed instead of peeled. I’ll never peel another potato as long as I live if I have anything to do with it.